


let's see

by nausicaa_of_phaeacia



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Coulson and his Huge Crush on Daisy, Daisy is such a tease, Drinking, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, Prompt Fic, Semi-Public Sex, cousyfixit, mention of past Coulson/Cap jsyk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 10:03:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16239368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nausicaa_of_phaeacia/pseuds/nausicaa_of_phaeacia
Summary: "You slept with CAPTAIN AMERICA."





	let's see

**Author's Note:**

> ... I mean this is rated _Explicit_ but you know me?
> 
> Written for **#cousyfixit** (prompt: MULTIVERSE/S). Even though I kinda misused the prompt - sorry, I just really wanted to write this :)

"You slept with CAPTAIN AMERICA." She‘s practically yelling, both stunned and fascinating, then swats him. "How come you only tell me this NOW."  
"Seemed like a good moment," he tries, rolls his sleeve back up before refilling their glasses. They are at a S.H.I.E.L.D. party, but it‘s gotten too crowded, so they‘ve taken it to the balcony after making eye contact across the room full of people trying not to sweat. Thank God Coulson brought drinks.

"Details," she demands, elbows on her knees.  
Coulson flat-out _blushes_. It‘s hot, and they are getting tipsy, but he‘s really, actually, blushing. She can‘t deny she‘s feeling just that little bit accomplished about it.  
"I would never –"  
"Was it – Would you do it again?" She smirks.  
He takes a neverending sip from his glass.  
"Coulson! Would you or wouldn‘t you?"  
"I would. I guess."  
"Ha!"  
"Did I prove a point?" He‘s almost smiling. Almost.  
She shrugs. "I don‘t know. It‘s just – I‘m curious."  
"Why?" He‘s honestly confused.  
It‘s her turn to blush a bit. "I don‘t know, it‘s – I guess it‘s hot."  
"Hot?"  
"Yeah. You and Cap."  
"Of course, I mean Steve Rogers certainly is … hot."  
"Okay, no, but you two together."  
He‘s red as a tomato. " _Me_ –"  
"Yeah." She says it as if this is a normal, acceptable thing to say to your work partner. (It‘s _not_.)

He refills their glasses.  
"It‘s still nice out for September," he says.  
"You‘re changing the subject."  
"I am."  
They drink in silence, Coulson still trying to recover.  
"Still hot," she says.  
"You could take off your blazer."  
"No, Coulson, you. _Hot_."  
"You‘re tipsy, Daisy."  
"So are you."  
"You‘re not wrong," he says, refills their glasses again.  
"Are you trying to get me drunk?," she jokes.  
"Would that make you stop?"  
"Probably not. On the contrary."  
"What do you mean?"  
"It would make things more –," she licks her lips –, "more dangerous."  
Fuck. That‘s it. He‘s a lost cause. Daisy really needs to stop, or else he won‘t know what to do with himself. And she needs to stop licking her lips after each sip.

"You‘re sweating again," she points out. "It‘s not _that_ hot."  
"What isn‘t?"  
"The weather."  
"Oh."  
This can only get worse, can‘t it.  
Daisy leans over, showing him a good bit of her bra, intentionally or unintentionally, he can‘t determine. "Give me that bottle."  
He lets it go. Now it‘s her refilling their glasses. Shit, Coulson thinks, shit, things are getting more and more risky. The alcohol is going to his head, and so is Daisy, and so are her reckless remarks.  
She leans over again, places the bottle on the little table next to him, offering him the same view as before.  
"You‘re reckless," he mumbles.  
"What?"  
"Nothing," he says, trying to avert his eyes. She smiles. It‘s cruel how he cannot hide a single thing from her. Including a more and more obvious … _thing_.

"Are you cold?," she asks, and considering his situation, it‘s almost provocative.  
"Um – not really, why?"  
"You seem uncomfortable."  
"Daisy, you make me –"  
"– re-evaluate your life decisions concerning fucking Captain America?"  
"No –"  
"– want to kiss me?"  
"No, you make me _nervous_." God, she‘s really messing with him –  
Double take.  
"… _what_?"  
She just smiles.  
"Did you just say –?"  
"Yeah."  
That smile. Daisy‘s smile. It‘s too good to be true, she must be playing with him –  
"Come here, you." Her voice is warm yet seductive, and he‘s gone again, he‘s so lost, God.  
There‘s nothing he can do.

She grabs him by his shirt collar and pulls him in. Her lips are soft and cool on his, and he‘s sure he‘d just faint if he weren‘t that _extremely_ turned on.  
Her hands are all over him, and he‘s still trying to grasp what‘s happening, to make sure this is not some drunken half-conscious dream he‘s having, but she‘s sure as hell kissing him, hell, she‘s _making out_ with him, Daisy Johnson is making out with him, okay.  
When he comes up for air, he manages to ask, "You sure this isn‘t a parallel universe or something? Alternate reality?"  
She chuckles, lightly swats his shoulder. "No excuses," she reprimands him, but the smile is right there in her voice.  
Good God, if they make out even one more second, he‘s gonna have to find another way to get back into the building from the balcony, because _everyone_ is going to see –

Her hand is there. In his pants.  
Good Lord.  
"Right here?," she asks, but it‘s not really a question, it‘s an offer and it‘s a relief and by _far_ the sexiest thing anyone has every said to him. Daisy bolts the curtained balcony door by wedging one of the wooden chairs under the handle, and Coulson doesn‘t think he can take it because Daisy gently pushes him down onto the other chair, draping her dress over his lap in one swift motion. It makes him _moan_.

"Let‘s see," she says, and it‘s fucking sexy, God, but it‘s also cheeky and light-hearted, and Coulson never realized how much he needed this playfulness. And, okay, you know, just for Daisy to kiss him?

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, kudos to you for making it through the fic. I am so not used to writing smut. Sorry.


End file.
